After lunch I walked to my American History class with Asher on my left and Becca on my right. I found out that Asher was in all of my classes after lunch except gym.
It was weird that the first people I met had almost the same schedules as me, but I wasn't going to complain. Maybe I just got lucky?
Or very unlucky. If Madison saw that I made friends, bad things would happen. But there was nothing I could do about it, these two weren't going to leave me alone, and maybe I didn't want them to.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. I couldn’t remember anything that my teachers taught. The whole time I was thinking about Asher.
He always stood beside me, and his eyes were always on me. It was like he was studying me or something. It was unnerving, but at the same time it made me feel warm inside. And safe.
I was walking to my locker after the last class of the day when I saw Madison. She already looked popular, just like I expected.
She briefly looked over at me and smirked, then turned back to her friends and said something that made them laugh and look over at me. I knew she was making fun of me like she always did, but I was used to it. I got bullied at every school we went to because of her.
One time some girls even came into the bathroom when I was in there and cut my hair. Two held me down and the other cut half of my hair so short that I looked like a boy when I fixed it so all my hair was an even length.
Snapping back to reality, I put the combination into my lock, opened the door, and started stuffing books into the top compartment of the locker.
“How are you getting home?” A voice I was quickly becoming familiar with asked from behind me.
I turned to face Asher and instantly got lost in his eyes, they sucked me in every time I looked at them.
And then before I knew what I was doing, my eyes drifted down to his full rosy lips, and didn't stop until they landed on his grey te-shirt that showed off the faintest hint of the abs underneath.
He was so hot, I couldn't deny that.
“Liza?” He asked waving his hand in front of my face. I forgot he even asked me a question.
I blushed and finally answered “I’m walking.”
“Want a ride?” He easily offered.
I could not get a ride from him. If Madison or Jason found out they would go crazy and I would end up getting beaten worse than usual.
“No, it’s okay.” I told him as I closed my locker.
He looked disappointed in my answer but he covered it quickly, “It’s really no problem.”
“I want to walk. I need the exercise.” I lied.
“Okay.” Asher gave in, obviously not believing me, but he walked off without another word.
As I watched his retreating back I wanted nothing more than to spend more time with him.
When I got home from school I was exhausted, but now was not the time to rest. I still had to clean the house and cook dinner for Jason and Madison.
After I vacuumed, washed the floors, and did some laundry, I started cooking.
I ended up making steak, mashed potatoes, and corn. Jason’s favourite.
I placed everything neatly on the table five minutes before everything needed to be ready, and then retreated to the basement. I wasn’t allowed to eat with them and the only meal I got was a sandwich with either bologna or cheese. Jason didn't like spending any money on food for me, sometimes I'd even go days without eating if he was in a particularly bad mood.
When 7:00 p.m rolled around I heard the stairs creak, letting me know someone was coming down to see me, and only one person ever did.
My heart began to pound in my chest and my palms clammed up as I braced myself for my next beating.
When he finally made it down the stairs and into my room he was holding his belt.
He hadn’t used that in a long time. What did I do that was worth a whipping and beating?
“Get over here you slut.” He slurred.
I reluctantly got to my feet and slowly walked over to him. My head bowed.
When he was punishing me I wasn’t allowed to look at him or else he would make it worse. It made him feel more powerful or something.
When I was in front of him he grabbed my arm and pulled me closer until his face was inches from mine.
I could smell the hard liquor on his breath and it made me feel sick, but right now that was the least of my worries.
“I thought you might have missed this belt so today I’m going to do you a favour and let you visit with it.” He said softly.
What? Why would I ever miss that?
Without warning I was thrown to the ground.
“You ungrateful little bitch. I brought this belt for you and you don’t say thank you? I’ll teach you a lesson on manners.” He yelled, grabbing a fistful of my hair so my head would stay in place when he punched me.
Then he let go and pushed me onto my stomach.
I felt a cutting pain on my back as he whipped me over and over with his belt, but just as quickly as the whipping started, it stopped and Jason moved on to something new.
He starting kicking me in the side and I herd a few cracks over his incoherent yelling. He probably broke a couple of my ribs, but it wasn't anything I hadn't experienced before.
“You better start appreciating what I do for you. I saved you from that orphanage and gave you a better life. And you can’t even say thank you?” He spat hatefully.
After what felt like hours, he stopped and stumbled back upstairs to pass out on the couch.
I crawled into bed and ignored the pain as I curled into a small ball. I wished I could curl up so small I disappeared altogether.
I rolled over and looked at my alarm clock which read 7:30 a.m. I was going to be late
I jumped out of bed and winced. I had a major headache and my stomach and sides hurt so much I whimpered when I moved.
I slowly walked into my bathroom and looked into the mirror. I had a new bruise forming on my right eye.
I carefully lifted up my shirt to inspect the rest of the damage from last night and saw giant bruises already starting to darken, especially on my right side. I gingerly felt the damaged ribs and knew that two were broken.
Thankfully I healed pretty quick usually so I wasn't too worried. I’d had broken ribs plenty of times so this was nothing new. I just had to make sure I didn't do anything that would cause a rib to puncture a lung.
I reached under the sink and pulled out my liquid foundation to find it empty. Crap, what was I going to do now? How would I explain my face?
I got out all the foundation I could and it made the bruises look a little lighter but they were still noticeable. I guess I had to make something up and hope people believed me.